


So Good In Blue

by megyal



Category: Live Free or Die Hard (2007)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-16
Updated: 2008-05-16
Packaged: 2017-10-11 09:58:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/111165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megyal/pseuds/megyal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the prompt given by <a href="http://www.livejournal.com/users/spikedluv/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://www.livejournal.com/users/spikedluv/"><strong>spikedluv</strong></a>: <em>The first time Matt sees John in his dress blues</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Good In Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to [](http://www.livejournal.com/users/fitofpique/profile)[**fitofpique**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/fitofpique/)  
> **Betas:** [](http://www.livejournal.com/users/atlantisgrrrl/profile)[**atlantisgrrrl**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/atlantisgrrrl/) and [](http://www.livejournal.com/users/deadlybride/profile)[**deadlybride**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/deadlybride/) took a close look at this for me, thanks so much for their help. Any remaining mistakes are my own.

John threw the garment bag on one of the single beds and scowled down at it.

"What, is it gonna blow up? 'Cause if it's gonna blow up, you need to stop looking at it and give me warning, or something. I know you don't do warnings, but can you try? For my sake." Matt was reclined against the pillows on the other bed, his laptop secure in his lap as he peered at John from behind his glasses.

John still hadn't gotten over the fact that the kid wore glasses. Matt hated the square black frames, said they made him appear more nerdy than necessary ("I know how I look on a daily basis, McClane, and these are not helping"), but his contacts had given him _hell_ during all that shit in the Fire Sale, and so he just stuck to them.

Actually, John thought he looked kind of cute; which was a pretty strong indicator of how he was feeling about this kid. He figured that he'd better keep it under control, or he'd have a whole lot of explaining to do to his ex-wife and kids. Lucy would probably have a fucking field day, finding out that he was attracted to some computer whiz half his age. Jesus. Finding out about Matt's quick affair with some agent up in Homeland Security hadn't helped matters at all. As a matter of fact, he still felt a fierce animosity build up in him anytime he crossed paths with the agent, a young cocky dipshit named Collier. The last time he had found an excuse to visit Matt in the Jersey City office, Agent Collier had been lounging against an outside wall, waiting with Matt, who had greeted John with a big grin while John glared at Collier.

Collier wisely took off, and they'd had a nice, friendly lunch. Just good ole pals catching up with each other, as they did quite regularly, and _damn_ if he hadn't been watching Matt's surprisingly full lower lip all through the meal.

"It's not going to blow up," John told him now with a wry twist of his mouth. "Gotta wear my dress-blues to this stupid awards thing."

"You brought a _uniform_?" Matt stared up at him. "Dude, I just brought a nice shirt! Shit, I'm going to look all under-dressed. It'll be like prom all over again, only instead of Mark Thorpe chasing me over the football field, I'll be up on the podium looking like the world's biggest Lame-O. And the thing is--"

"You'll be fine," John cut in quickly before the kid could get into the swing of it. "It's not gonna last long, they'll just give us their shitty little medals, pat us on the head and send us home. Trust me."

"At least I can get a shrimp cocktail out of this one," Matt complained. "Last ceremony they had, the one you didn't go to? The food was shit. Although, I'd prefer if they'd give me some sweet cash instead of a medal. Money is nice."

John grunted in agreement. "We got an hour. Go put on your nice shirt." He unzipped the garment bag as Matt powered down his laptop and ambled over to the bathroom. Sharing a hotel room with the kid was simultaneously nice and nerve-wracking. He was constantly aware of Matt, the way he smelled, the way he murmured as he slept, waking John up with these arousing little groans. John had gotten hard in his boxers early that morning as he watched Matt on the other bed, turning restlessly and pushing the covers away, his pale skin almost glowing in the dark of the room.

John had silently jerked himself off, coming with his eyes fixed on Matt's gently moving chest; and then he had felt like some creepy old man. Ah, fuck it.

He pulled out the dark-navy suit and hung it up, studiously not looking in Matt's direction as the kid came back into the room, a towel wrapped low on his hips. He tried not to make it look as if he was trying to escape in the bathroom, and took the coldest shower he could. Coming back out, he stopped short, for Matt was over there fondling his dress-blues.

Well, not exactly. He was standing very close to it, though, one hand trailing down the row of golden buttons on the long-sleeved jacket. John cleared his throat and Matt leapt away, fumbling with buttoning up his own shirt.

"What the hell were you doing, kid?" John was puzzled, amused and intrigued all at once. Matt shot him a quick look, pushing his glasses up on his nose and shrugged.

"Um... I just, you know, like uniforms. Yeah, that. And a man in uniform. Right, yeah."

He turned away quickly before John could say anything else, but not before John saw how red his face had become. John dressed rapidly, deep in thought, and then cursed when he got to the tie.

"Thirty fucking years, and I still can't get this right," he grumbled, pulling out the awkward knot again, and squinting at himself in the mirror. Matt was behind him in an instant, grasping his shoulder so that John would turn to face him; Matt batted his hands away.

"My step-dad paid for two years of private boarding school." Matt's fingers moved deftly at John's neck. "Got me out of the house. At least I learned some mean tie-tying skills... among other things." He gave John another one of those quick glances, this time with a sort of question in it. A _heated_ question.

John looked at his dark fall of hair as Matt smoothed down the tie and then quickly ran his hands over the lapels, as if he couldn't help himself. Matt didn't step away, just watched John reach for his hat, a slight smile on his face as John adjusted it over his head.

Matt cleared his throat. "Yeah, so, I've never seen you in formal stuff before. The suit and the hat and all."

"Yeah? It's hot as hell in here." John tugged quickly at his sleeves, his eyes still fixed on Matt's face, so close to his. He smiled a little, and raised his eyebrows when Matt glanced quickly at his mouth.

"Yeah. Hot." Matt's eyes were large and bright - John simply couldn't stop staring at him. He inclined his head, just a bit, and watched Matt's lips part as he swayed a little towards John. The kid hesitantly put his hands on John's chest again, moving slowly as if he expected John to shout at him or something; he was breathing quickly, and he licked his lips, leaning even closer. John felt the warmth of the kid's hands even through the material of his formal uniform, and there was that first halting brush, nice and slow and then _motherfucker_, there was someone pounding on the door and Matt was stepping away, biting his lower lip.

"Mr. McClane? Mr. Farrell? We'll be ready for you in about fifteen minutes... are you in there?"

"Yeah!" John yelled in the direction of the door, knowing that he probably sounded like an irritable asshole and not giving a fuck. "Yeah, give us a minute!" He tried to exhale a calming breath as he heard the person retreat down the hall, but Matt was standing _right there_ in his nice black shirt and trousers, looking really different and mature in his glasses and dark clothes and not like a geeky kid at all. His eyes were roaming hungrily over John's body, taking in the dress-blues.

"Fuck it," Matt muttered abruptly, and launched himself at John, who staggered back at the sudden armful of slender, eager man, making a face as his back hit the wall. He wrapped his arms around Matt, groaning as Matt held onto his shoulders and kissed him, one of those hard, quick jobs that involved a lot of tongue and roaming hands and writhing hips.

Not that John was complaining.

He could feel the hard line of Matt's dick against his thigh, pressing rhythmically as Matt's tongue swept inside his mouth. The frame of Matt's glasses was pressing against his cheek, but John was too busy kissing him back roughly and getting painfully hard to pay much attention to it. His hat was knocked off, and Matt's hands were on his head, fingers stroking the bald expanse eagerly.

"You're hot in this," Matt told him huskily as soon as they managed to pull apart, his lips shockingly red. "Fuck, you're hot, like, all the time, but this? Oh, shit, this beats every wet dream I ever had. Even the one about Mark Thorpe fucking me on the football field in his cadet uniform, but that was just when I was in high school, I didn't know any better, and--"

John shut him up with another kiss and Matt clung to him, whimpering when John unbuttoned a couple buttons on his shirt and fastened his lips onto that attractive patch of skin where his neck curved into his shoulder. Matt made a funny sound, a choked gurgle and then his hands were pulling John's belt, unbuttoning his trousers and reaching in to curl his hand around John's cock.

John bit him right at that same juncture he was suckling, feeling his cock throb impatiently against Matt's sweaty palm as the kid groaned loudly and just kind of slid down John's body until he was on his knees.

"Kid," John groaned, unable to move his eyes from Matt, who was parting his trousers, fumbling with the waist-band of his boxers. Matt's mouth was sliding down over his cock almost as soon as he got it out, and he stared up at John daringly, taking in as much as he could before slipping back, lips puckering. "Oh, _fuck_."

He put his hand on the kid's head, his fingers tangling through the long strands as Matt bobbed his head, sucking and licking. He moaned and John felt as if it vibrated through his balls and to the base of his spine, tingling its way up and flaring in goose-bumps all over his body. He pumped his hips a little, wondering if he might be choking him; he felt Matt's hand grab onto his hip and grip painfully, and the sight of Matt's lips sliding up and down the length of his cock was just about the final straw. He snatched away his hand from Matt's head, vaguely realizing that he would clench his fist and probably pull out a clump of his hair.

John came with a stuttered groan and felt it simply rush out of him. Matt made a muffled, surprised noise, but kept his mouth firm until he pulled back and off John's softening cock, face upturned, glasses askew. John panted and watched Matt's arm moving frantically, and he blinked slowly, before trying to kneel down and help the kid out.

"Don't... move," Matt said faintly, and then he pressed his forehead against John's thigh and moaned, shaking. John finally slid down the wall, and looked at Matt's softening cock, come still dripping through his fingers.

"Should have let me take care of that," he said with a frown, and Matt stared at him, before laughing breathlessly. He tucked his cock back in and reached out to do the same for John, belting him up almost languidly. He gave John a surprisingly shy smile, considering that he'd just had John's dick in his mouth two minutes ago.

"I just--" Matt shook his head and tried to get to his feet, but John grabbed him by the arm and yanked him forward, tasting the trace of bitterness of his own come on Matt's tongue as they kissed. Matt's hands fluttered over his shoulders and he looked a little dazed as John broke away with great reluctance.

"Let's go, kid," he said gruffly, because he would have probably thrown him on the bed if they spent any longer in here. There was always _after_ the awards ceremony. Matt nodded, flushing red at John's expression as he headed to the bathroom. "Next time," John called out over the sound of the water running in the sink, "I'll wear my old patrol uniform. Maybe arrest you, or something."

"Next time?" The way Matt's head popped out of the bathroom with his eyes wide was comical and gratifying.

"Yeah. Next time." John laughed softly to himself as he opened the room door and sauntered towards the elevators, listening to Matt lock the door and run behind him to catch up. Next time.

Ah fuck. He hoped his uniform could still fit.

_fin_


End file.
